HIRAETH
by Tokishimo Rika
Summary: Sakuno just had a way to excuse herself from the scientific and mechanical topics her Uncle Agasa can't seem to stop talking about. She finds out that Kudo Shinichi happened to be away and she thanked the heavens for only that. But Subaru Okiya, a tenant in the detective boy's house, tried to make her confess that she's the mother of the child he found crying outside his gate.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"SAKUNO, YOU LOOK… great."

"Thanks, Grandma." She'd have to believe otherwise. She slept for the whole trip back home in her uncle's yellow beetle with her mouth open, and her right cheek felt numb and pinched from leaning on the half-open window from the passenger seat. Sakuno wiped the sides of her mouth and ran her strained fingers through her hair, trying to smooth it down… or maybe just tame it. Maybe she shouldn't have let her hair down unbraided.

"Did you try a new style? What is that called, Wavy? Wind-blown? It looks great."

"Grandma, it looks terrible. I look like I haven't had a shower in a week."

Her grandmother frowned, and then placed a plate of bread on the table. "That's not true. Here," she said. "Taste this. I got over your recipe for garlic toast and added Parmesan instead. Tell me if it tastes five stars yet." She walked over to remove a tray of English muffins from the oven and spoke louder as if Sakuno can't hear her well enough. "You should see yourself in the mirror. You're like one of those girls from the magazines Tomoka likes so much. With those Smokey eyes… Sakuno, don't sleep on the table. Eat my bread."

Sakuno propped her head on one hand and munched a mouthful of garlic bread. It doesn't taste like garlic, but then again, garlic bread only _smells_ like garlic. It tastes relatively the same as her garlic bread—without the Parmesan. Sakuno usually used the very abundant Mozzarella from the nearby grocery. She pushed down the chewed bread to her throat, and only then did the Parmesan hit her taste buds. She moaned in ecstasy.

The kitchen smelled like yeast and cinnamon and a faint dose of eggs and something sweet, like honey. Her grandmother always liked to put honey in everything she bakes as much as she can and if the recipe can hold it (but not in the garlic bread). Every time her grandmother cooked something for Sakuno, the whole house would smell like a bakery— or what a bakery would smell like. Sakuno hadn't even been to a bakery that baked their own delicacies here in Tokyo. All of them were delivered and sealed in a clear plastic and obviously factory made. Sometimes, Sakuno would think that people from places except Tokyo can only have real bakeries. Sakuno considered herself lucky to have a grandmother who can give her bakery-like goods.

She felt a tingling sensation pushing through her ribs. When was the last time her grandmother cooked for her?

"Seriously, it's three in the afternoon. Why are you so sleepy? How's the bread? Come on, talk to me. Eat and talk." her grandmother's brows furrowed, as if on purpose, and had both of her oven mitten-covered hands resting on her hips. Sighing, she removed one gloved hand and pushed a toothpick through a muffin and lifted it out. No crumbs sticking to the small piece of wood.

Sakuno nodded, dusting the crumbs on her fingers and snatched another piece of bread from the plate. "It _good_. The Parmesan—why didn't I think of adding Parmesan?"

Her grandmother sat across her and helped herself with a slice. "We were living off with only two kinds of cheese in the pantry. It's natural not to think of Parmesan. I was restocking the spices while you were away. Which reminds me…," she stood and turned the burner to low heat, adding heavy cream onto the saucepan. She started chopping bits of the chocolate bars, dumping them to a medium-sized mixing bowl. She spoke through the chewing. "How was your visit? How's your uncle?"

Sakuno saw one piece of bread that was soggy. She wondered why it was the only soggy one of the whole batch. What made it so soggy? Like it soaked up spilled water. Sighing, she poured herself some tea. "It was fine. He was fine."

"Whoa. That was very heavy." By that, her grandmother probably meant her sigh. "Does that mean anything? Did the two of you _not_ have a good time?"

Sakuno stared at her grandmother's apron secured with a tight ribbon, a flab of fat peeking though the crumpled shirt. She remembered how her grandmother was pretty thin and obviously youthful back in her old days. She'd seen pictures of her father too when he was still alive and young, and in his too-big prom wear, and him holding a tennis racket wearing a frown on his face, and her mother when she'd said yes to her father's proposal, and all the good stuff Sakuno heard from stories. In those aging photographs, she saw how happy and complete her family was. She could see her mother, and her uncle, and other people she doesn't know. She can't ask her grandmother about them; she sneaked into her grandmother's room and took a peek at the albums while her only close relative was away on a tennis business in another city.

Sakuno bit the inside of her cheek, annoyed with herself. She can't be thinking about something else when her grandmother is talking to her. She isn't usually like this.

"We had a grand time. He showed me pictures and told me more about Mom…" A sharp pain passed just above her eyes. She closed them and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Grandma, I'm tired. Can I go sleep?"

Her grandmother ignored the question. "Aw, honey, at least you got to know more about your mother. You know, I can give you some info about how much of a limp your father was. Can't even last a single match. If he's here now, I'd be happier to teach you how to tease him till his ears are beet red. He's a lot like _you_." Her voice was softer now. "If he's here now…, he'll be the one doing all the baking— not us. He was also a great cook. Like me... And _you_. He's a lot like _you_."

Sakuno didn't know what to say. She's happy to be like her father in many ways, but being the combination of her clumsy mother and flushed father doesn't help her much at all. She wished she inherited something more than just being good at cooking and stitching and other household-tied work. Because if not, she'll be a housewife for the rest of her life. She wished she inherited her grandmother's ability to play good at tennis. _Make me a natural_ , she wished to something; anything. _Like Ryoma_.

Sakuno wished it was that easy. Just inheriting things. She knew she had to take the training more seriously if she wanted to be good. _Like Ryoma, damn it_.

It took Sakuno a few seconds to say something. She opened her eyes and rubbed her wrists. She removed her watch and saw small gray things from where the watch was. She scrunched her nose and brushed it away. "You're unusually talkative today."

Her grandmother snorted and poured the hot heavy cream into the mixing bowl and submerged all the chopped chocolate into the white liquid. " _You're_ unusually tired. That makes me normal like always." She turned and carried the bowl to the table, holding a moon whisk with her other hand. She set those aside and retrieved the English muffins, carrying them all to the table.

"Right. I'm tired. So I guess that means you're going to let me sleep?" Sakuno pushed away some of the plates on the table to give the English muffins some space.

Her grandmother frowned. "Haven't you had enough sleeping today? If you sleep now, you'll have trouble sleeping tonight. And you have school tomorrow. We can't have that. You're helping me with these." She handed Sakuno silicon-fitted tongs.

She grunted. Sakuno stood and started removing the muffins from the tray to a cooling rack. Her grandmother grabbed her arm and stared at it. "What's this? You have very deep marks. Where'd you get these?"

"I got it from the beetle."

"The what? You were bitten by a beetle? But how can that be, it should be bite marks here instead of… marks."

"It's a _car_. It's very ancient, but it runs well."

Her grandmother's brows furrowed and let go of Sakuno's hand. "A car is named after an insect?"

"Adolf Hitler conceptualized it. While he was in prison— can you believe that he actually thought of that? He was in _prison_ , and he tried to solve Germany's unemployment problem." Sakuno resumed to her work warily.

"Hitler? The bad guy?"

"Yes. But he wasn't really a _bad_ guy. He did initiate World War II, but he had great political moves. He created the beetle... What am I saying, he really is a bad guy." She pulled the last muffin from the tray and placed it gently over the cooling rack. She carried the warm tray to the sink, feeling tired all of a sudden. "If it weren't for him, I would have thought that the car was named after the old rock band _The Beatles_."

"I don't think anyone would want to hear songs by a band named after an insect." said her grandmother.

"They _would_. People _love_ them. They're a worldwide sensation. They're very rich and very dead—but still very popular. I would think that they were also very good looking, if I had lived in their time. They were that good." It was hopeless trying to explain it to her. She doesn't even care about anything else than tennis.

"Why didn't _I_ know about them? What was I doing?"

"You were busy playing tennis."

"What did you say?"

" _Tennis_. You were so busy playing tennis to even listen to overseas music."

"Oh." Her grandmother said. "Oh yeah." She picked up the whisk and started incorporating the melted chocolate and the heavy cream. "Go get a spoon and drizzle the ganache over the muffins. You're not going to sleep as long as the sun is still up."

* * *

SAKUNO NEVER THOUGHT that her very first visit to her uncle's home would include helping a guy her age have the best real date he'll have. Not that Sakuno was _the_ date, even though Sakuno wanted so badly to have at least one real date like the guy. Never did she expect to hand him a quarter of her allowance.

"Oh, hi. Do you happen to play any sport? Your hair's too long, but is it tennis, by any chance?" the guy said, holding her hand and giving it a quick peck. He looked up, making it impossible for Sakuno to not look at his eyes directly. His hair was in a royal mess- like his comb only made his cow-licked hair look even worse- and his green polo shirt had a blob of bubble that could go unnoticed if you weren't paying any attention. She would have swooned if it weren't for the toothpaste, and the fact that he's not Ryoma who would look good even if he's in this state. And how did he know that she played tennis?

"You have a, um, toothpaste on your shirt." she gestured on her shirt.

His eyes widened. He looked down his shirt and stretched it out forward, letting go of her hand. "No way. Where?" he looked at her in panic, then looked down again and finally saw it. He tried to run his fingers through it but it only made a bigger mess. Sakuno grabbed a tissue from her bag and lightly dampened it with alcohol.

"Here, let me." She pried away his hand and dabbed the smudged part of the cloth. "It will leave a stain." When she was satisfied that it would be no problem anymore when dried, she straightened her back and frowned at him. "So..." she hesitated, but thought better of it. "Who are you?"

The guy stared at her and cracked into a short laugh. "Don't you think that you should have asked that sooner?" he shook his head and released a breath. "I'm Kudou Shinichi and I'm harmless. I live next door. See that Victorian house there." He pointed to the window. "Look at it."

Sakuno did.

"And you are?"

Sakuno's eyes shot back to Shinichi. He was grinning, and it made her cringe inside. This guy is acting too familiar with her. And he's undeniably too close. Sakuno would have tolerated him because he was good looking, but he's really close to her. She shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "I'm Ryuzaki Sakuno…" she struggled to keep herself from asking practical things: What was he doing here? Did he just waltz in to somebody's house and expect that people would just ignore what he had done?

"Okay... Do you play tennis?"

Sakuno wanted to just ignore him. "Yes."

Shinichi walked around and sat at the sofa. He's acting too comfortable inside her uncle's house. Sakuno doesn't like him already. "I knew it. Where's Professor Agasa?"

"In the bathroom." Sakuno didn't know why she told him that. She could have told him to get out of private property. She could have told him that he shouldn't feel so much at home in somebody else's house. When her uncle got out, he saw Shinichi and he glowed.

"Ahh, Shinichi. Isn't this the big day? You're supposed to be with Ran-kun now." He said it like he was supposed to be in a wedding, not in a house all of a sudden. Professor Agasa was drying his hands with a towel.

"Professor Agasa!" Shinichi ran to her uncle and wiped his palms on his loose jeans. Sakuno was aware that she was watching his every move. "I need a favor. I can only count on you, you are my last resort."

"Sure, anything." Her uncle was walking towards her and got a saucer. "Want some pie? My neice, Sakuno—Sakuno! Here, this boy is Shinichi. He's been under my care. If you have visited here more often, the two of you and another girl named Ran, his girlfriend, could have been close friends. You're the same age as them. You're only sixteen, right?"

Sakuno only nodded. It had been the third time her uncle made sure of her age. She wondered if he would actually remember it tomorrow. She saw Shinichi's ears turning pink.

"Ran's not my girlfriend." Shinichi proclaimed. Sakuno could almost hear him say _yet_. She could have swooned and melt to the ground by Shinichi's shyness. But Sakuno hates him already.

"Ah, yes. Shinichi, this is Sakuno, my favorite niece." Professor Agasa slowly heaved himself to his seat next to her.

"I'm your _only_ niece." She corrected.

"Right. My only niece. You were talking about a favor?" Agasa spooned a big chunk of her homemade apple pie and shoved it into his mouth.

"Yes." Shinichi slumped into a chair beside Professor Agasa, who unknowingly separated him from Sakuno. She's very grateful for his choice of distance, although not admirable. "I'm going broke. I did tell you that I'm going on a…date with Ran." He released a deep sigh.

"You did, and that's a good thing, right? You like her very much. Why aren't you happy?"

"God, _I am_. I am. Why are we even discussing this? Someone else is here. No offence, Ryuzaki-san."

Sakuno could have pointed out that it was offensive. She could have pointed out that he started the whole conversation. She could also have pointed out that she hated him, even if she knew better than to judge quickly. She could have pointed out that it was his problem if he's short of allowance for the month. And that maybe he could find a part-time job to cover his expenses today at the amusement park. She could have pointed all that, and get away with it. He's so afraid to make the first move. Why can't he be cool like Ryoma and not care about giving the best date to his girlfriend? ("She's not my girlfriend!" Shinichi kept reminding them both. _Yet._ )

She knew that Shinichi's better than Ryoma. Because Shinichi thinks and worries about giving the girl he likes something great. Why can't Ryoma be like Shinichi and worry about every single detail? Maybe that's why Sakuno gave a quarter of her own allowance—along with a couple of reminders— to Shinichi, even if she hates him because she's jealous.

She's jealous. Or maybe envious.

Sakuno could only hope that the money she gave was worth it. She's going broke now, too.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

SAKUNO GRUNTED AS she struggled to drag a sack of peat moss from the gate all the way to the garden at the back of the school. The delivery man was grumpy and very eager to get away from this place full of hormonal and noisy teenagers. He must be well in his forties, and his hairline had long been destroyed because of his balding head. His shirt was damp with sweat and it clung to his skin. The delivery man was fat and short, almost Sakuno's height.

Sakuno should have asked the man to carry the sack for her. He could have handled the sack easily. But after he let her sign a paper with a chewed pen, he neutrally said his memorized line of appreciation for choosing their delivery services and fled to his truck, leaving Sakuno with a heavy baggage.

She stopped on her tracks and leaned the sack against her leg for support. She fished for her handkerchief and wiped the sweat resting on her eyelid. She wiped the back of her neck and shoved the cloth back to her side pocket.

The Garden Club successfully made use of Sakuno's love for plants.

Sakuno grabbed the ends of the sack and heaved again. She was only halfway to the garden but she was already this sweaty and tired. She wondered if she could last the rest of the day, given that she was already pretty tired from sitting through it. She even had club matters to attend to.

Her _own_ club.

She doesn't know why she accepted the Garden Club's favor. She wasn't even a member of that club. (She'd taken up the Women's Tennis Club and Literature Club.) They could wait and accept the delivery on their own. It wasn't that hard. Sakuno could do it a million times. But to carry it to the gardens, and with the length she'll have to wobble to, Sakuno could only do it halfway. She can't go any further.

"Ryuzaki!" she heard someone yell. She faced the direction from where the voice came. She didn't have to; she already knows who the person is.

Ryoma. It's _Ryoma_.

Oh, how she wished she could just call him by his first name only. Without the honorifics. It would feel like they're in a new level in their relationship. Not that they have a relationship; Well, they are in a relationship. But an innocent one. Like, _just friends_. It could be worse, but it's definitely better than _just acquaintances_. Or "the coach's granddaughter". She would do anything to not get back to that, because that's _just acquaintances_ equivalent.

Ryoma slowed his pace and raised a brow at her, his hazel orbs aligning with her brown ones, even if he's practically almost a feet taller than her. The milk worked. Adolescence worked. Being a high school student worked. If their romancing would work... "What are you doing?"

Sakuno's eyes faltered and she looked away. She chewed on her lower lip while she tried to pull the sack, silently pleading it to move by itself. "Helping the Garden Club with this."

He scowled. "You mean 'making myself a servant'. You're not even in that club." Ryoma pushed away her right hand and grabbed an end of the sack. She realized he was trying to help her. "What is this?"

"A sack. Of peat moss... Or more like a kind of peat moss." She rolled her eyes. "Whatever kind peat moss has."

"Hmm."

They both tried to carry it, but Sakuno kept limping on her feet. The cloth texture of the sack was brushing against the exposed skin of her right leg. Sakuno wasn't sure if it would leave blisters, but it would definitely hurt worse later. She carried it better on her own. "You know what? I'll just do it myself. This isn't working."

"Yeah, you were doing a great job a while ago." Of all the things Ryoma could improve on other than his already-great tennis, it's his sarcasm. He could just talk more frequently but he _had_ to talk more frequently _with_ sarcasm.

She huffed. "I _was_! I made it all the way here from the gate! Why are you here, anyway?"

He scoffed and then slapped her hands, taking all the sack's weight to his hands. "It's almost club time."

"That doesn't explain anything." She slapped his hands to get back at him and tried to get the sack. He pulled it away from her and flipped it upward with his leg, resting it on his broad shoulder. "What— what are you doing?"

He sighed. "Look, I've got this. Why don't you go to your club and talk to your grandmother? She's waiting."

"Really?" She dusted her hands and her skirt. "Why didn't you say so earlier? Are you sure you've got this? I'm sorry, if I just got this over with faster."

" _Yes_ , Ryuzaki, I've got this. Now go."

She frowned. "Why are you like this? You want to get rid of me that bad? If you don't want to bring this to the Garden Club, then I'll do it."

" _Ryuzaki_." He said in an exasperated voice. He let out his hand like he was asking what the hell was that thing. "You _too_? Why is everyone saying that?"

"What? Saying what?"

" _You want to get rid of me that bad?_ " He imitated her voice. It didn't work.

She clasped both her hands behind her and unclasped it, remembering what Ryoma taught her about 'casual'. "I'm sorry." She bit her cheek. "But you were acting like you do want me to leave you alone. You're so grumpy today. What happened?"

Ryoma sighed. "My old man." He groaned and ran his free hand through his black-green hair. "Let's not talk about that now. It only frustrates me more. You should go. I'll handle this... and have a few words with this club."

"Okay... " She trailed on, and then remembered what usually happens when Ryoma has a 'few words' with clubs Sakuno hangs out with. "You're not going to scare them, are you? The Music Club isn't particularly keen on having me around anymore. They think you'll beat them all up if they spend more time with me."

He stared at her, peering through her, like she forgot her whole life. Or maybe like she was joking. "You fainted because they forced you to play the _Tuba_."

"It's not like I died. And I wanted to play the tuba at least once in my life." She lied. She doesn't even know what a tuba was until she saw the Music Club playing it. And with all the air she had to blow out; Her cheeks ached when she woke up at the infirmary.

He snorted. "Yeah, right."

She placed her hands on her hips. "I did want to play the tuba!" She didn't.

"You're frail. I always feel like you'll crumble to pieces with just Eiji-senpai's hugs. You have to be careful. Do you remember what happened at the U-17 Finals?"

She does. Sakuno always had excellent memory, although she can't quite make use of it for directions and her tests sometimes. Like her prowess can only be applied to just... Memories. Like, she could remember that she wore a green blouse when she first went to a karaoke hangout with her friends during her last week as an elementary student.

The U-17 Finals. Where she almost can't play tennis anymore. Ryoma always blamed himself for it, not minding Sakuno's reassurance that he wasn't at fault. She shooed away the memory. Maybe that's why Ryoma is here now. Maybe that's why Ryoma is very protective of her.

She opened her mouth, wanting to remind him that it wasn't his fault. That she'd been too clumsy to be in his way. She closed her mouth and opened it again, sure of what to say next. "So. Which club? Did grandma say what she wanted to talk about?"

It took a few second before Ryoma could answer. When he finally did, he forced up a smile. "The Women's Tennis Club. Where else? Coach said something about changing the drills. Shouldn't that be your own coach's job?"

She gave a real smile now. "Coach Yukihara wanted to adopt the drills of the Men's Tennis Club. We didn't have much of a drill, anyway."

"Hmm. Now go. She's waiting."

"Are you sure you can handle that? I can accompany you."

"Yes, I can do this on my own. Now _go_." He waved his hand at her, motioning her to _go_.

"Okay, okay. _Going_." She started to run but one of her shoes loosened and flew a few steps forward. She hopped to it and slipped her foot in. After all the training Ryoma gave her, she still hadn't moved forward from her staggering. She peeked a glance at Ryoma and found him standing there, watching her. She bit her lips, instinctively embarrassed. She tried not to blush; because she's not allowed to blush anymore.

"You should really cut your hair." He walked away. Ryoma said it better than Kudo Shinichi.

* * *

"THE NUMBER OF LAPS should be reduced by half." Coach Yukihara Akane suggested as she tapped her cheap fountain pen over a clipboard. She is in her early twenties and a fresh graduate. She teaches Home Economics but somehow, she played sports and is rather knowledgeable in tennis. But even if she's that knowledgeable to be assigned as the Women's Tennis Club coach, she wasn't that great on training the team. She only knows how to play. Unfortunately for her, there isn't another teacher to fill her spot. "Is that okay? We must think of the physical and mental exhaustion my girls must have been through the day. Believe me, when I was their age, I thought High School is worse than College. I think I proved I was right."

"This number is already the minimum. If we want them to improve, we have to keep this. It involves stamina. We wouldn't want them to faint in the middle of a long rally." Coach Ryuzaki said.

"But they never had a long rally before." said Coach Yukihara.

"Yes! That's because they can't. You've seen their limit. Any more than 10 minutes, they're done. We have to raise the number of swings, maybe more with sit-ups, and let's have 15 minutes of cardio daily."

Coach Yukihara's mouth dropped open. "All that for the warm-up?"

"Yes. All that for the warm-up. It will cause some shock, so we have do add things up gradually."

"Gradually." Coach Yukihara repeated.

"If we want them to improve." Coach Ryuzaki sighed. "I feel so sorry for this club. The school is focused on the men, they almost forgot there was ever a Women's Tennis Club. At least the Girl's Tennis Club at the Middle School Division is stable."

"I know. This school has deep gender inequality issues, this ought to be an all-male school."

Coach Ryuzaki stared at her. "You really think that."

"No. I'm trying to be clever. Being a teacher makes me feel like I can always talk with wisdom and knowledge. Is this how you felt when you began your life as a teacher?"

"What I felt, my dear, is something else. My head was always saying: 'Are these kids ready for my test yet?' and 'They are such children!'... I felt like a shepherd flocking dogs, if you know what I mean."

"I see. By the way, where is Sakuno? On her way, I hope." Coach Yukihara turned her head around, searching for a particular brunette with a childish hairstyle.

"I sent Ryoma to get her. She probably helped another club with something. I swear, that kid, even when Ryoma just taught her to move out of her comfort zone, she always goes too far beyond it."

"She's really friendly. Perhaps too friendly. It's a good thing she has her boyfriend by her side."

"They're not in a relationship yet."

"Ooh." Coach Yukihara smiled from ear to ear. "Yet. No definite disapproval. I can see why you like him as your granddaughter's suitor."

Coach Ryuzaki smiled back. "I can't deny their chemistry. Which reminds me, can I see that for a minute?" She reached for the clip board a flipped a page, scanning through for the dietary information. "I don't like this idea, but maybe we could ask my boy Inui for an energy drink. He's into chemistry, you see."

"Let's see..., that could be arranged. Maybe we should have Sakuno's assistance for that. I'll get the Captain."

"Look here, it's Sakuno."


	3. Chapter 3

"SAKUNO, YOU HAVE TO see this!" Osakada Tomoka squealed as she lunged toward Sakuno's table, taking the unoccupied seat in front of it. One of the bands that supports her pigtails snapped while the other is agonizingly secured in a tight twist. Her bangs were probably all over the place, but the state of her hair was the least of her concern. "Do you remember the High School Detective I was talking about before? Well, do you?"

Sakuno picked up the pen that rolled down to the floor and sighed. "There were two arrogant detectives: one is from Osaka and one is 'really really close to us', like you said... If I'm not mistaken."

" _Yes!_ " She squealed again, not minding the people around her. Tomoka may be from another section, and she was really devastated about that when they first learned that they weren't be together for their first year, but she always came by when it's break and acts like it's no big deal that she's here. She _always_ acts like things aren't that much big of a deal when it's not about Ryoma. And other good-looking men. "Him! The nearby detective, the one on the newspaper! You remember him, right?"

"I remember him, though I really can't stick his name to my brain... Sorry, what's his name again? And what's got you worked up?" She chuckled. "Did you see him on the train or something?"

" _Kudo Shinichi_. And even if I wish I could see him on the train, I now know it's impossible! He's gone! _Gone_ , Sakuno! Oh," She covered her mouth with her hand, closing her eyes as if she's crying right now. "My poor, poor Shinichi..."

Kudo Shinichi?

Sakuno folded her fingers, wondering where else did she hear that name. From the newspaper? From Tomoka? She knows that, but Sakuno feels like she encountered it elsewhere, she just can't grasp it. "Are you sure he's gone? You mean, like dead? Uh, I'm not really sure about that. You have the tendency to overreact."

Tomoka shot her eyes to Sakuno and pressed her clenched hand on her chest. "I'm not overreacting! Here, take a look." She let out her phone and gave it to Sakuno, telling her that if she wanted to scroll down, she'd have to punch the up cursor.

... LAST SIGHTING OF KUDO SHINICHI WAS IN AN AMUSEMENT PARK WITH HIS CHILDHOOD FRIEND, MOURI RAN. ONE OF OUR LOYAL MEMBERS HAVE SPOTTED HIM RUNNING AWAY, LEAVING MOURI RAN...

Sakuno didn't read the rest of it; she knows where this conversation will lead to. She gave back Tomoka's phone and leaned on her back, crossing her arms. Tomoka really is overreacting- like the rest of the people from this fanpage. They _even_ made a fanpage. "Maybe he had an emergency and had to leave."

"For five weeks? Maybe something bad already happened to him!"

Sakuno raised her brows. "Like what?"

"Like _murder_. Or suicide! Or murder- it's got to be a murder! Worse, a _planned_ one."

"Just because he solved planned murders before doesn't mean that'll happen to him. Maybe it's suicide..."

Tomoka groaned, throwing her head back. " _Why_ are we even talking about him being dead? He's still alive! I know it! It's just that I have this feeling that something really bad happened to him, I can't think of anything else. My heart's feeling heavy, do you know what I mean? Actually, my heart _and_ stomach is." Tomoka covered her face with her hands for a minute. When she finally let go, probably to breathe, she looked straight to Sakuno's eyes and stared at her. Her cheeks were red and pinched. "I feel like I love him."

Sakuno held back a snort. "You always say that."

"It's a fangirl thing; I can't help it."

Tomoka stared at her, making Sakuno feel uneasy. Sakuno blinked and unfolded her arms, sinking back into her chair. She can't handle eye to eye contact for so long. Or a staring contest with the other person staring at her too. She felt bare and unclothed. But Sakuno doesn't want Tomoka to know that. Sakuno trailed her eyes back to Tomoka's."What do you want me to do?"

Tomoka still stared at her. Sakuno blinked again and shifted her eyes, trying to fixate it to Tomoka. _Just stare, damn it._

Sakuno unconsciously sunk more into her chair, as if it were possible, and then Tomoka grabbed her hand.

"Tell me that he's not dead."

Sakuno stopped squirming, suddenly finding no strength but to stare at her best friend. "Okay," she found herself saying. "He's not dead."

"Okay."

* * *

AFTER HER CLUB ACTIVITIES, Sakuno took her phone from the bag she left inside the club room. She wiped the sweat on her face and neck before struggling to wipe her back, the air felt cool on her skin, and her muscles are burning underneath.

Sakuno wanted to ask Tomoka more about that detective guy, but that would end up with her cornered with the Ryoma situation, so she struggled not to. She's going to have a hard time focusing on the one-on-one training she has with Ryoma.

She then wondered what she was doing with the phone. It's not like she's going to mail Ryoma _again_ about the training tomorrow, or ask the Music Club if she can play the piano instead (because she's so done with the tuba), or ask her grandmother what she'd want for dinner, because, for what it's worth, Sakuno already knows what to cook for dinner.

All day, she felt giddy. She didn't know what she was missing. And if she felt giddy, it might be because something's wrong. It's like a premonition. She doesn't know what it is. Sakuno finished all her errands for the club- and for other clubs, even if Ryoma opposes.

 _Ryoma_.

Was it about Ryoma?

Sakuno unlocked her phone and wrote a new mail, torn between happy and nervous. She found a new reason to talk to Ryoma, and he knows that she gets this bad feeling from time to time. She hopes nothing wrong happened to him.

" _Ryoma-kun, did something happen?"_ she wrote, waiting patiently on the seat inside the clubroom. It took only a few seconds before the phone vibrated.

" _Nothing, really. Is there something wrong?"_ he wrote.

" _Nothing bad happened to anyone? Are you sure?"_ she wrote back. Few minuted passed and she didn't get any reply. Her hands started to sweat cold until the clubroom door swung open.

 _Ryoma_.

"Did something happen?" Ryoma heaved his chest up and down, Sakuno could almost see the flesh underneath that shirt. But the flesh was the least of her problems, even if they were his flesh.

"I should be asking that."

He moved closer and grabbed her wet hands, squeezing them, never minding how wet they were. Sakuno could kiss him, but kissing was also the least of her concerns. He looked into her eyes and squeezed her hands tighter. "No one's hurt. Okay?"

Suddenly, Sakuno didn't remember what she was worried about. The hazel depths that tore into her was intense. She wanted to squeeze back and feel his hands more. "Okay."


	4. Chapter 4

SAKUNO WOKE UP TO the soft whir of the air conditioner that was usually toned out and never heard, but somehow, she was glad to finally hear it. The lights had just got back at last. Even though the radio station her grandmother always listened to broadcasted yesterday that there might be a two-hour blackout circulating the country, Sakuno never realized she'd be this impatient. She had her phone and laptop charged, and the batteries loaded, and even bought more candles for the third time that day just in case the blackout had occurred at night. Grandmother Sumire bought two battery-powered fan for the both of them, too.

Sakuno shifted her aching body on the sofa, her neck stiff from staying in one position for a long time. She wanted to stand up now and dash to her room, get that godforsaken charger and fill up her phone again. (Because she had the battery five full hours before the actual blackout happened, and the average life of the battery was only a six.) But Sakuno just _couldn't_. She's fully awake now, but her body felt like a hundred times heavier than before.

She struggled inside to wiggle her toes, thinking that they were already moving when they weren't. Moments later, she hoisted herself up to stand and staggered her way to her bedroom upstairs. She rummaged the drawers of her study table and grabbed the charger agonizingly slow.

The noon blackout officially made Sakuno's Sunday a lazy one.

Only a split second after she plugged in her phone, a ticklish vibration from the phone erupted. It was so _good_ , it woke up her hand. The company name showed and went to the home screen. Then another vibration went up again, along with a ringtone Tomoka put in. An alert popped up, saying that a Hiroshi Agasa sent her a message at two in the afternoon.

Her uncle.

" _Sakuno, it's been a year. I'm going camping with some kids next weekend. I'm hoping for you to come join us and maybe catch up with your favorite uncle. There's a boy named Genta who would love your cooking. I miss my favorite niece. And your cooking :)"_ it read.

Camping. With her uncle. And other _kids_.

Sakuno could feel her excitement going down from her hands to her toes. She haven't had camping with family before. The only camping she ever had was the training back in Middle School, which isn't really an actual camping with actual camping equipment- like tents and sleeping bags and a lighterfor an evening storytelling with _marshmallows_.

She definitely must bring some biscuits and cookies for the children- because children get hungry easily. She'd have to bake the biscuits herself. An insect repellant should be inside her kit. She must ready her toiletries and the clothes she must wear. Oh, grilling meat would be nice! She'll try marinating them with honey like her grandma. But then Ryoma...

Forget the tennis session with Ryoma! There's a lot of time to make up for his weekly lessons. She's seeing her uncle again- the only relative alive she has with her mother. Camping with him, _and other kids_ , means a lot to her.

Sakuno scrolled through her contacts and called her grandmother, eager to ask permission for this reunion with her uncle.

* * *

"YOU'LL GET LOST in the woods if I'm not there to guide you," Ryoma reasoned out why she could just stay here in Tokyo near him. "Are you sure you want to go camping?"

Sakuno frowned at him. "You say it like camping is a no-go when you're in high school. Old people do it, children in middle school do it, _everyone_ does it. Other High Schools have this major camping event annually. Why are you so against this?"

"I'm not _against_ it. It's just... What about our training? And you cook for me after. What will I eat then?"

"Ryoma-kun," she swore, she'll have to get rid of that _kun_ someday. "it's not like I'm the only one who can feed you."

"But you _are_. You know how my mother always cooks Western Cuisine. And Nanako takes after her."

"Just this weekend, Ryoma-kun. Just this weekend."

Ryoma groaned and leaned back on the rooftop wall, tugging his hat down to cover his face. "Fine. Just this weekend. You have to come back in one piece, no cuts and bites."

Sakuno smiled and wrapped the lunch boxes with their blankets in a neat tie. "I'll try."


End file.
